Double Espesso
by DaynaJD
Summary: McKay visits a coffee shop and tests the employee on his math skills.


He really needed a new job. One that paid a bit better. Of course, he only had a year left until he graduated and he could join the Air Force, so it was kind of pointless to quit. He was already settled here and the people were okay. It's not like the job was bad, it just wasn't-

"Double espresso to go," a guy called out as he snapped his fingers impatiently at John. John glanced up and was caught by a pair of stunning blue eyes.

"Huh?" he answered. He mentally smacked himself. Very intelligent. Way to use that higher education.

The guy in front of the counter gave him a seething glare that clearly showed he thought John was the biggest moron on the planet. "A double espresso to go," he said slower. "And be quick about it. I have very important work to finish, the consequences of which you couldn't possibly fathom." He hardly looked up from his PDA as he spoke. John rolled his eyes. He was used to it, having worked at the university coffee shop for the past nine months. There were always self-important professors and grad students "on the brink" of some big thing at odd hours of the night demanding more coffee. Another thing to put under the "quit' column.

"That's $3.82," he said as he put the coffee on the counter. The guy glanced up at John then at the blank register.

"Clever. Memorized the price," the guy said, although he didn't sound impressed. John didn't correct him, either. People looked at him weird when he told them, "No, I didn't." So he just smiled and nodded a little.

The guy threw down four very crumbled bills, grabbed his drink, and mumbled, "keep it" as he left. John smiled as he gathered up the bills and straightened them out. That was another reason to stay. The tips weren't great but at least he always had some cash in his pocket.

"I would not, and I say it deliberately, degrade women by giving her the right of suffrage. I mean the word in its full signification, because I believe that woman as she is today, the queen of the home and hearts…" John shut the book and closed his eyes. He groaned. Why the hell did he wait until his senior year to take this stupid history class? Oh right, his stupid advisor didn't say he had to take the dumb class until he got his graduation audit during the summer. Now he was stuck taking a semester of GEs instead of taking classes he really wanted to take. At least the stats class was easy. And once he was done with this semester, he was 18 credits away from graduation.

"Double espresso and a blueberry muffin to go."

John lowered his feet off of the table and stood. What the fuck? He hadn't even heard the guy come in. He was definitely fixing that bell when this guy left.

"Coming right up," he said as he maneuvered his way back behind the counter. The guy actually looked up, glared around, and frowned when he finally located John.

"Huh? People still do homework? Are they actually paying you to do homework?"

John shrugged as he packed the espresso. "You're my first customer in a hour and a half. Besides, my boss doesn't really care. That's $6.51."

The guy frowned again as he tossed a five and two ones John's way. "Keep it," he said as he picked up his drink and muffin.

"Thanks," John managed before the guy left.

John checked the clock. Fuck. Only eight. He still had two hours to go and he was bored out of his fucking skull. He'd already done all his homework…well, he still had that paper to write, but it wasn't due until next week, so it wasn't really a priority. He'd already swept and cleaned everything and pulled milk for tomorrow and wiped down all the tables.

"Double espresso and a tall mocha with extra chocolate," a familiar voice called out. John lifted his head off the counter and drummed his hands on the surface.

"Sure thing." But the guy didn't even look up. His fingers raced over the small keyboard. John watched for a second, impressed that the guy had that kind of technology. He'd looked into getting a PDA like that, but they were way out of his price range.

"Working on some major break through?' he asked just to make small talk. The guy grunted, his fingers never pausing.

"I wish. Those morons they stuck me with nearly blew up my lab yesterday. I'm trying to fix their idiotic mistakes."

"Oh, you have your own lab? $10.73." John asked. The guy sighed impatiently.

"Yes. Here." He tossed twelve dollars on to the counter, grabbed his drink and left without another word. John stared at the cash for a moment before he gathered it with a smile. The guy was rude, but at least his tips were getting bigger.

It was like that for the next week. The guy would come in, order his double espresso and something else. He never ordered the same combo twice. John gave him the total without ringing it up. The guy frowned, toss some money down, and let John keep the change. And the tips kept going up.

The guy wasn't very talkative. He insulted John's intelligence a few times, and once let him know, in more than a few words, why history was a useless subject. John really did not have a good reason to disagree. He did anyway, though. It broke up the monotony of his evenings. And either the guy wasn't paying attention or he liked arguing because John got a large tip that night.

The guy was definitely John's favorite regular.

It was just like every other night when the guy came in. John looked up from his notes and smiled.

"Double espresso and one of those strawberry things. Grande."

John shook his head as he started the drinks.

"That'll be $13.65."

"All right, how many of these combinations do you have memorized?"

So, that's what the combo orders were all about. John couldn't help the chuckle. "I just do the math," he answered. The guy looked like his jaw would dislocate and slam on to the floor. Then his eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh, really? A muffin, a cookie, a salad, a grande chai, and a venti vanilla latte?'

"$21.37. So, all those other orders were tests, huh?"

"Yes, well." He tossed his money down and left with his drinks. John watched the guy go, a slight smirk on his lips. So the guy had been testing him. No one had ever done that before. They all just assumed he knew the prices from memory. But this guy had actually tested him. He shook his head slightly and started cleaning the blender. Every once in a while, he chuckled to himself. He absolutely had to get to know this guy better.

John didn't work the weekends as a rule. He worked nights. The manager, Sam, worked mornings, and various employees worked the mid and weekend shifts. It worked out nicely for John. He got to go to school during the day and fly on the weekends. Except when Sam was out of town and one of the girls called in sick, leaving the poor new kid by himself. So that meant John had to give up his Saturday afternoon and evening to work the night shift.

He was on his break when Kevin, and thank God for nametags because John could never remember the kid's name, groaned and slumped against the counter. He mumbled something that John couldn't hear then straightened as a customer came into the shop. John straightened a little when he noticed it was his guy.

Well, not his guy, because, well, he'd only had two real conversations with the guy. He didn't even know the guy's name for fuck's sake. So, of course, he wasn't _his_ guy. He was just a customer. A regular, true, and John's favorite regular to be sure. But that was it. Fuck. He was screwed. Don't fall for co-workers or customers. That was the rule. Fuck.

"What will it be, Professor McKay?" Kevin asked. The guy, McKay if Kevin was anything to go by (because John wondered about the boy), looked up from his PDA long enough to pick out a sandwich and tossed it on the counter.

"And a double espresso," he added. John resisted the urge to call out the total. He was curious if McKay would tip Kevin the same way he tipped John.

Kevin rang up the order and gave him the total. McKay collected his change and his coffee and left. That was it. No witty conversation. No tip. No nothing. John frowned as he joined Kevin behind the counter.

"Who was that guy?"

"Professor McKay," Kevin answered. "I'm in his Physics 101 class. It's the hardest fucking class I've ever taken. The guy is brutal. I mean, it's a freaking intro to physics class and he teaches it like we're all physics majors. I'm an art major. I don't care about physics. Anyway, he comes in here all the time. He's always on that stupid computer and he never tips. He's kind of an asshole, actually, especially to his students. Did you know he actually wrote that I was a moron on one of my tests? Dude, take my advice and never take one of his classes."

John shrugged. "I've already taken physics." It was a half-truth anyway. He'd already taken his physics GE. All he had left was upper division classes.

"You're a math guy?" Kevin asked.

"Aerospace Engineering," John automatically corrected. Kevin shrugged.

"Whatever. I'm surprised you haven't had any classes with McKay yet. He teaches a bunch of upper division classes. They're listed on his website. You should check it out. At least you'd know which classes to avoid," Kevin said as he took his glasses off and rubbed them on his shirt. John tried not to roll his eyes at his co-worker.

But he did plan on taking Kevin's advise. He was kind of curious about McKay. Okay, he was dieing to know a little more about the guy. Maybe he could just sit in on a class or two just to see if he wanted to take one of his classes next semester.

His shift ended without incident, although McKay didn't come by again as John had hoped. He went home were his cat met him at the door. John scooped him up and set him on the desk as he started up his computer. Spartacus meowed at him, so he scratched the cat's ears absently as he waited for the computer to boot up. He stopped scratching in order to log on to the Internet, and Spartacus let out an unhappy meow. To show just how unhappy he was, he stepped on the keyboard. John sighed, plucked the cat from the desk, and set him on his lap. Finally content, Spartacus let him search the university website in peace.

It didn't take him long to find McKay's site, and he was kind of awed by what he found. The guy had two and was working on his third in Aerospace Engineering, but he couldn't have been more than three years older than John. He also had the classes he taught listed, and more than a few were ones John knew he needed to take in the next semester. At the very bottom of the page was a link that read "Attention Undergrad Students" in bold print.

John clicked on it.

The link opened a page with an application for an undergrad TA position. John scanned it and almost fell out of his chair with laughter. Spartacus made a little noise in the back of his throat and dug his claws into John's denim clad legs. John just stroked the cat as he re-read the application.

"Attn: Undergrad students," it read, "I'm sure none of you are qualified to work with me, but they are requiring me to take three of you, although you couldn't possibly understand the genius of my work. If you think you're qualified, which I highly doubt, fill out the below form and hit submit. I'm sure you can handle that very simple task, and if you can't you certainly aren't getting the position."

John quickly filled out the application. Under "other qualifications" he typed in "can do math in my head and know how to make double espressos."

There was a response the next morning in his inbox with the room number and time John was expected to be there. Added to the bottom was "bring espressos." John just laughed.


End file.
